


Fundamental, Paradoxical

by foggys_cupcake_girl



Category: Minority Report (2002)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Deepthroating, Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies to Lovers, Face-Fucking, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, On the Run, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Rimming, Sleepy Sex, i'm so sorry y'all i had to, more like reluctant coworkers to lovers shhhh let me have my fun, oh God how did I write this, oh my God we're still not done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29091294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggys_cupcake_girl/pseuds/foggys_cupcake_girl
Summary: John Anderton takes Danny Witwer with him when he goes on the run and, instead of rushing all over God's creation like the beautiful dumbass he is, decides to hole up in a motel with his "twink from the Fed."Danny isn't sure how this happened or what's going on but he is definitely enjoying it. Even if John can get a little...overenthusiastic...in bed.
Relationships: John Anderton/Danny Witwer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Fundamental, Paradoxical

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingramblr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/gifts).



> Pure sin. PWP. Literally this is just "my friend and I think Tom Cruise boning Colin Farrell would be hot so here you go" fic, there's no actual reason for its existence beyond that lol. ;P
> 
> Also, I would like it to be known to all that writingramblr is an enabler. That is all. ;) <3

Danny is pretty sure he’s going to die any second.

Not because he heard the alarm go off seconds before John Anderton whipped him out of the room, no. Not because he thinks John is actually going to murder someone (yes, he heard the ball drop, but he  _ knows _ guys like John, the only way he’ll murder someone is in self-defense, he’s too proud and too obnoxious to be dragged as low as murder). Not even because he’s been taken hostage (sort of) by a wanted man.

“I just want to make it clear,” he pants between furious kisses, as John pulls off his shirt, “when I said I wanted to help you, this is  _ not _ what I meant.”

“Mmm. Yet I don’t hear you complaining,” John shoots back, grabbing Danny’s ass with both hands and aggressively grinding their hips together.

“I’m not—” Danny groans as a hot mouth descends onto his neck, sucking a possessive bruise right over his throbbing pulse. “I’m not complaining,” he tries again. “Just, ah, shouldn’t we have dinner first or something?”

His words trail off into a whimper as John pulls back and takes a moment to flick his tongue over the fresh bruise before he says, “Always a stickler for protocol, huh, Witwer?” He shoves Danny to his knees and Danny is so surprised he drops without even trying to resist. “You might be the hotshot over at the FBI, pal, but right now, you’re  _ mine.” _

He unzips his jeans and pulls out the most gorgeous cock Danny has ever seen. Flushed, hard and leaking slick and Danny feels his own cock twitch at the sight. “Please,” he groans, not sure what he’s even begging for…

…until John’s cock is pressed to his lips and he starts to swallow it down, the taste hitting him like a tsunami. He moans and his cock leaks in his pants, so hard and aching, the noises that John makes as Danny swallows him down going straight to his head. John’s cock isn’t  _ massive, _ but it’s definitely thick and Danny has to focus hard on breathing properly as he takes John as far down as he can.

Which turns out, surprisingly, to be  _ all the way. _ Danny isn’t one to zone out during sex, far from it, but there’s something almost hypnotic about the way John slides back to give him a little reprieve and then slides back down his throat, making Danny take him a little deeper each time. Once Danny has taken the whole thing in, a rhythm is slowly established. John isn’t exactly rough, but he’s not gentle either. He fucks into Danny’s throat with purpose and all Danny has to do is…stay there. Which he does, focusing on breathing through his nose as John fucks his face.

John finishes down his throat and Danny is so startled that he nearly chokes, which just seems to make John groan louder as the last wave of his orgasm is wrenched out of him. “Fuck yeah,” he breathes, petting Danny’s hair and giving it a little tug. Danny’s moan of pleasure quickly turns into a cough, and John obligingly pulls out so Danny can breathe again. “That’s it, baby,” he says, his voice a throaty growl that  _ does things _ to Danny, petting his hair as Danny fights to get his breath back. “That’s a good boy. So good. You did so well.”

Danny is just given the briefest moment to recover before he is unceremoniously hauled to his feet and thrown onto his back. The worn-out motel bed creaks as John hops up beside him and efficiently divests Danny of his slacks and underwear. “Did you like that?” he demands in a low, husky voice. “Like having me fuck your mouth like the dirty boy you are?”

Okay, this is degrading, just like the  _ tiniest _ bit degrading, and uh, he’s kind of here for that? He’d question it but honestly, Danny is too far gone to really care. “Yeah,” he pants, his voice still a little hoarse.

“Mmm.” John pets the base of his throat with a sympathetic little smirk. “You were so good to let me fuck your throat, make you all sore. How about…” He puts a hand on Danny’s belly and leans over him, practically licking his lips at the sight of Danny all laid out for him. “How about we make this a little more fun,” he says with a dark little grin.

“More fun h—” Before Danny can ask how, his wrists are grabbed, held together, and then wrapped with a belt that is then secured to the headboard. “Oh  _ fuck,” _ he moans, arousal bursting in him like a water balloon. “That’s just—oh  _ God.” _

“Like this, baby?” John growls before kissing him hard, tongue forcing its way past his lips like he’s got every right to Danny’s mouth. Danny gives in, choked moans lost between their lips as he squirms. Pleasure roils under the surface of his skin, every point of contact like flames licking at his oversensitive skin. It only gets better when John pulls back only to plant a line of rough, starved kisses down the length of his body. He mutters something that could either be  _ hold on _ or  _ cum _ and Danny is only sure he’s capable of following one of those orders.

“Gonna reward you now,” John breathes between harsh, biting kisses to Danny’s belly and thighs. “Gonna make you feel so good, and all you gotta do is take it, okay? You just stay right there and let me work.”

Danny isn’t sure what the noise he makes could really be categorized as, until he feels something wet prod his entrance and then feels John’s warm breath in his hole and oh fuck oh  _ fuck _ he is actually whimpering, his eyes rolling back in his head as he feels John fucking Anderton’s  _ tongue _ thrust into him.

He can’t remember the last time someone ate him out. Honestly, he can’t remember the last time he had sex period, let alone let himself get completely and totally dominated like this. He’s so used to being in charge since he got promoted that he forgot how fucking  _ good _ it feels to let go.

“Mmm,” John groans into his hole and Danny just about fucking faints. “You taste like power, baby. You’re the biggest fish at the Fed, aren’t you, but right now…” He takes a moment to resume eating Danny out like he’s starved before he finishes in a wet, hoarse whisper, “Right now I could make you  _ beg.” _

Danny really thinks he might start doing just that any minute. “I want,” he whines, and then yelps as John licks into him again, tugging pointlessly at his bonds and squirming until John has to grab his hips and hold him down. He’s so hard, he’s  _ so fucking hard _ and he wants to cum like  _ yesterday. _ “Please,” he gasps, tears welling in his eyes as he thrusts up into nothing.

John pulls away and Danny nearly sobs. “There it is,” John says with a grin, reaching for something in his discarded pants. “Knew we’d get you there.” He slicks his fingers up and in an alternate universe, organization-fetishist Danny might ask himself  _ why did this motherfucker bring lube before going on the run, _ but right now he can’t think straight enough to question it.

“Yes,  _ yes,” _ he all but screams when John circles his rim with just a fingertip. “Please,  _ fuck, _ want it, please—”

“Mmm. I like hearing you say  _ please,” _ John teases as he continues to play with Danny’s oversensitive rim. “Say it again and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

“Fuck,” Danny moans, his head flung back, wrists straining against the belt. “Fuck,  _ please _ finish me, Jesus  _ Christ…” _

“Ooh. Do you kiss your rosary with that mouth?”

“Anderton, I fucking  _ swear—” _

“Oh, I know you do. Very good at it, too.” With no warning a finger drives deep into Danny and brushes against his prostate on the first stroke and he  _ keens, _ tears streaming down his face as he writhes helplessly under John’s touch. John, the fucking bastard, outright  _ laughs _ as he finds Danny’s prostate and massages it with abandon, making Danny clench down on him with the most undignified noise he’s ever made. “Let’s see,” John says, far too casually for a man who just came down the throat of the guy he’s fingering into next Tuesday, “if we can make you swear a little louder.”

It’s a cheesy line, but Danny’s too busy cumming all over himself to care.

~

An indefinite, perhaps infinite amount of time later, and Danny’s vocabulary has not much improved.

“Please,” he gasps, tears streaking from underneath closed eyelids as a slick hand probes deeper into his body, massaging his abused prostate as his still-hard dick pulses and tries to spurt against his heaving belly. “Please,  _ fuck, _ Anderton, you’re killing me.”

“Sh-h-h,” John coos, and Danny wrenches his eyes open to see the man leaning over him, sweat beading on his forehead as his teeth sink deep into his lower lip, eyes narrowed in concentration. “You’re doing so good…just a little more, I think, you can take a little more, can’t you? Big strong tough Fed guy like you, I think you can handle one more orgasm, yeah?”

Honestly, Danny’s not sure. He’s lost count. Four, maybe five? All of them from being intensely massaged. He’s never been fingered this long before and quite frankly he’s not sure he’ll  _ survive _ another orgasm.

But John’s not letting up, he continues to tease the spot that makes Danny sob and writhe, leans over and flicks his tongue first over one puffy nipple and then the other. “C’mon, you can cum for me,” he urges Danny. “C’mon, you can do it…” He pauses, as if he might actually stop, then thrusts his fingers in deep again and bites one nipple while roughly tweaking the other.

Another wave of painful pleasure crashes through Danny and he cries out, helpless and loving it, as his cock bobs against his belly like it too is trying to beg for mercy. “I can’t,” he gasps, head flung back, his sore body held taught like a stretched rubber band. “I fucking can’t, it  _ hurts—” _

“You can,” John says sternly, and twists his fingers inside Danny  _ just right… _

He can’t take it. He’s going to pass out. He can feel his body clenching and releasing, can feel the fire streaking through him, he  _ knows _ he’s cumming but nothing is coming out of him and…fuck. Just. He can’t handle this any more.

He knows he sounds and looks pathetic, knows he’s crying and knows John is probably utterly and completely exasperated with him for being so needy but that does nothing to quell the wave of relief he feels when the fingers inside him withdraw and his body is finally allowed to relax. “Stay there,” John whispers, and he moans, and a moment later Danny feels something splatter on him.

Oh God. John just  _ came on him _ and he thinks he might actually have already died and gone to heaven. This is truly the filthiest he’s ever been, Danny thinks, wincing as John’s seed drips down his side. Christ, the fucking sheets…if someone came in and did a blacklight test on him right now, Danny would glow so brightly they’d need welding masks.

“So good, baby,” John pants as he finishes. “Yeah. God, you’re so fucking good. Here…” Danny feels his wrists drop back to the bed. He’s been unstrapped. “There you go. I got you. You okay?”

He’d say  _ yes but I’m also dead _ if he could. All he manages is a weak little  _ mmm. _ God, he doesn’t think it’s possible to die of pleasure but maybe he’s wrong because there’s a soft mouth nipping at his neck, a gentle hand on his waist and Danny thinks he might just float away like this, soul entirely separating from his exhausted, fucked-out body.

He feels a warm cloth on him, feels his former target rolling them over so that Danny is cradled against him, and Danny just lets him, too tired to do anything but let himself be manhandled. “Relax,” John hums, one hand gently stroking the back of his neck. “I’ll take care of you, baby. You just rest.”

Danny would say thank you but he’s already lost, spiraling down into soothing darkness in the safety of his lover’s arms.

~

Danny groans as his eyelids flutter, trying to figure out first where he is and second why he’s so unbelievably sore. And then, when he’s got that nailed down, why he’s ramping up to what feels like it will be a very,  _ very _ good orgasm before he’s even fully conscious.

Someone is holding down his hips, a tongue driving deep into his stretched entrance, and Danny’s eyes snap all the way open as he realizes— “Anderton!  _ Fuck, _ you fucking  _ asshole,” _ he moans, trying to roll his hips and failing as John has an iron-clad grip on him.

“Easy, sweetheart,” comes the cheeky reply, and then that  _ fucker _ goes right back to eating him out until he cums with a broken whine. It’s too fucking early for this, Danny wants to say, but he’s learned by now that he’s not in control here.

“Are you sure,” he demands when he can breathe again, “that fucking red ball wasn’t for my murder? Because if you keep doing this I am definitely gonna die and  _ ohhhfuck.” _

John is busy licking the cum off his twitching belly, one hand delicately holding down one of Danny’s wrists, and he doesn’t think he likes being this vulnerable but somehow it’s  _ okay _ because, shit, it’s  _ him _ and Danny isn’t sure why but he trusts this man, this tough man with the ice-blue eyes who seems to live to drive him crazy.

“I hate you,” Danny moans as John makes his way up to suck another bruise into his neck. “Fuck, I hate you. Wanna fucking marry you, I hate you so much.”

John laughs into the crook of his neck. “You know what? The timing on that red ball passed, hmm, about two hours ago.”

Danny tenses for a moment and then slumps into the bed, tears of relief in his eyes. “So you’re not a murderer.”

“No, I’m not.” A surprisingly gentle arm slides under his neck, a warm, heavy hand rests on his belly. “Shall we go back to pre-crime and prove it to them?”

Danny nestles his head into the crook of John’s neck with a sigh. “That sounded a lot like code for  _ I’m going to fuck you in front of my boss.” _

“Hmm, not that I wouldn’t love to make you scream in front of my entire department, but…” John nudges Danny until he looks up, and then says seriously, “I think I’d rather go for the option that doesn’t get us both fired. I want to keep you around a long time, Danny Witwer.”

The sound of his full name rolling off John’s lips makes Danny’s heart skip. “Yeah? Because…why, exactly?”

“Because of all the twinks the Fed has sent after us over the years,” John tells him with a raw, genuine smile, “you’re definitely my favorite.”


End file.
